


Kents and Winchesters

by spnfanatic



Category: Smallville, Supernatural
Genre: Action/Adventure, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angels, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Crossover, Demons, Family, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Humor, Metahumans, Multi POV, Temporary Character Death, Visions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:27:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22380286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spnfanatic/pseuds/spnfanatic
Summary: Smallville X SupernaturalPre-series AU SPN, Season 1 AU SmallvilleWhen John Winchester goes missing during a hunt, Dean knows he can't stay put in a motel forever, especially with little Sammy to think about. 9 year old Dean takes his little brother and run...straight into Martha and Jonathan Kent, 6 months before the meteor showers that change the town of Smallville forever. Soon the Kents and Winchesters will learn there are some bonds stronger than blood and destiny, whether you're human, alien or even angel.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	1. Winchesters Found

Dad always told Dean to look out for Sammy. No matter what. So when Dad didn't show up when he said he would, Dean tried to be patient and wait. He figured Dad was just running a little late. It was a big hunt, something that wasn't a simple ghost and Dad didn't expect the monster to put up such a fight. But that was OK. Dean's dad was a hero after all. He was strong and fast and a quick thinker, he was _invincible_. And Dean knew he was gonna come back. He made a promise before he left and so far, in Dean's 9 years, Dad hasn't broken a promise.

But the days dragged to weeks and they started to run out of food, and Sammy started to ask where Dad was and then Dean was checking the envelope again for cash Dad left them. He found a crumpled 5 dollar bill and frowned, a pang of panic rising in the pit of his stomach. No call, no sign from Dad. Sammy was gonna get hungry and the room couldn't be paid forever. Dean Winchester was only 9 years old when he felt like his world was starting to crumble down.

The morning after, Sammy wanted the last of the cereal. Dean hadn't eaten since last night. He gave his brother the last bowl and breathed in deeply, before breathing out just as deeply. His Dad still hadn't called. Dean was worried and hungry and panicking again. He realized they couldn't wait forever. He tried to call Dad again but got his voicemail. Dean must have sent a hundred messages by now.

"Dean, is daddy coming back soon?" asked 5 year old Sammy. His big hazel eyes stared at his brother from over an empty bowl.

Dean sighed, not sure what to say. He got off the chair he sat on and walked over to his brother. Dipping his head to rest on Sammy's shoulder, Dean gave him a hug. "I don't know, Sammy. I hope so but..." he bit his lip, wondering if he should tell him the truth. He decided there was no use hiding it since he planned on having them leave tonight, before the motel manager was reminded there were still 2 kids in a room that should've been vacated yesterday. "We can't stick around here any longer, Sammy."

"Why, Dean?" Sammy asked, looking into his eyes when his brother released him. Sammy's eyes were big and innocent and Dean wished he could protect that innocence in his brother forever. He wished to God the world was a safe place and monsters weren't real and Dad didn't have to hunt them to keep people safe.

"Because we don't have any more money. Dad didn't leave us with enough," Dean told him honestly. He watched as his brother seemed to digest what Dean just told him. He nodded in understanding, though he looked scared. Despite being only 5 years old, Sammy was really smart. Smartest 5 year old Dean ever met. And maybe Dean was a little bias because this was his brother and he practically raised him but...still.

They watched each other for a moment. Then Sammy seemed to swallow down his fear and suddenly his eyes narrowed in determination and he reached out chubby little hands to grip Dean's arms with a surprising burst of strength and said solemnly, "OK, Dean. We'll get through this. Don't worry."

Dean startled at the wisdom that shouldn't have passed through a 5 year old. He felt his eyes water with unshed tears and swiped angrily at his face. He was not going to cry in front of Sammy. Their Dad was going to burst through that door any minute and Dean would ruffle his brother's hair and grin and say, "Sammy, look Dad was just a little late." And he'd turn to Dad to see he was also grinning and completely unscathed and leaning against the door, and Dean would ask, "What took you so long? Was it a werewolf?" And they'd leave in the Impala as always.

Dad didn't show up. Dean grabbed Sammy's hand and they snuck out the motel that night, tried to avoid all the security cameras Dean spotted. Sammy was quiet, dragging a teddy bear in his other hand. Dean was sure Sammy was scared, they'd never snuck away like this before. Of course they also were never left this long without Dad before either. 

They both stumbled in the dark. It was cold outside and Dean realized too late they were completely unprepared to tackle the outside elements. The chills got to Sammy as well. He could see Sammy shivering as they walked. His whole body was shaking in his tee shirt and tattered jeans and tennis shoes. Dean was cold too but decided his brother needed his jacket more. He shrugged off his jacket without hesitation and draped it over Sammy. It was freezing in only his shirt and jeans that were full of holes. But he could see Sammy was having an easier time in the cold now. That was all he cared about.

It felt like they had been walking for hours before they got to the first sign that pointed to civilization. It said: **Welcome to Smallville, Kansas**.

Dean was happy they weren't going to have to walk for much longer. He was tired and cold and hungry. He looked over to his brother and could tell Sammy felt the same. Dean put his arm around his little brother. As they walked into Smallville, he thought about Dad. He hoped his dad was OK. He hoped his little note hidden inside the closet reached him. He really missed his dad and the sooner Dad found where they went, the sooner they could all leave together and put this mess behind them.

-

Martha wasn't sure what possessed her to go out that night. Call it a gut feeling, a 6th sense. Something in her heart told her tonight was going to be something big, something _special_. She wasn't sure what, if anything, she was going to find but it was impossible to ignore the feeling so there she was, walking to the edge of the corn field instead of curled up next to her husband in the warmth of their bed. She stood there, not sure what she was looking for. If there was even anything to look for. She crossed her arms, unsure what else to do.

"Martha, there you are!" Jonathan's booming voice was unexpected and made Martha jump.

She turned and sighed as her husband came to wrap an arm around her and pull her into a warm embrace. She leaned back against him and murmured, "Sorry. Couldn't sleep."

"So you came out here...to what, stare at corn? I was looking everywhere for you," Jonathan said. He looked confused and concerned.

"I'm sorry I worried you," Martha said quietly. "I don't know how to explain this. I just got this feeling, like I'm supposed to be here."

"Like you're supposed to be here," her husband repeated looking even more confused. When Martha moved to get out of his embrace with another sigh, Jonathan only tightened his grip. 

"I know it sounds crazy."

"Yeah? Just a little," Jonathan said. 

Martha was about to explain some more when the two heard something move near the edge of the field. They looked at each other before looking back to determine where the sound came from. There was another noise and some of the corn stalks swayed in the wind. Just as Martha was going to chalk it up to the wind, she saw two shadows through the tall corn stalks.

Before either her or her husband could move, two little boys stepped out, their faces pale and eyes staring right at Martha and Jonathan, before falling over. Martha was stunned to see her instincts had been right. She couldn't believe there were kids in the field this late at night. Jonathan was the first to get out of his stupor and jump into action.

Martha watched as her husband rushed over to the children and made sure they were OK. He looked relieved when he didn't even find a scratch on them. They both landed on the grass next to the road.

"What are we going to do, Jonathan?" Martha asked once they got home. She was glad her husband took his truck, though it had been a tight squeeze with the unexpected kids.

"Well, uh," Jonathan sighed. His wife looked at him with something akin to hope. He hadn't seen her look like that in ages. Since their marriage maybe. They had been trying for a baby for years now. Martha had given up some time ago, resigned to never having her own children, and Jonathan hated seeing resignation in Martha. He ran a hand through his hair, looked down at the kids they rescued a couple hours ago. The boys looked like brothers, one was close to 5 or 6, while the other boy was probably 9 or 10 if Jonathan had to guess ages. The older kid, upon closer inspection had dark blond hair. His hair wasn't as long as his little brother's but it could definitely have been shorter, a couple long strands going past his eyes as he slept. They both curled up against each other on the bed for warmth. He looked over to Martha, a small grin on his face now, as the smaller boy started to snore softly. OK, maybe the boys could stay for at least a couple days. Get them back on their feet, see what their story was. Then they would decide from there. "We'll talk in the morning."

It seemed enough for Martha. At least for now. She nodded, looking relieved they weren't going to kick them out just yet. They both left the room, leaving the door open a crack on their way out. This had been the guest room. Martha was glad they decided to hold off on any renovations. "What now?" she whispered to her husband. She was anxious and didn't really want to sleep.

Jonathan yawned and lead them back to their room. "Come on, Martha. Let's get some shut eye." He was, for one, glad to be back in bed. It was chilly outside and finding the bed empty and Martha gone from the house had been way too much excitement for one night. 

While Martha was somewhat reluctant, she fell asleep easily enough once her head hit the pillow.


	2. Winchesters Found 2

Dean Winchester was not having a good morning. When he woke up, it was to the unfamiliar feeling of panic. He shot up in a room that looked nothing like the motel room, in a bed softer than anything he remembered ever feeling, with his little brother curled by his side - the only thing that was familiar and good. His head was swimming and he was having a hard time remembering what happened last night...aside from the cold wind that bit and thrashed and howled against him as he ran away, with little Sammy just barely keeping up, from the motel. He remembered thinking they had to find Dad as quick as they could, as soon as they found somewhere safe to crash for the night.

He remembered the fear that had been gripping him as he thought of all the worst case scenarios of getting caught by an adult. The manager could call the police and the police could call CPS and Sammy would be taken away from him. Dad told Dean all the bad stuff life had to offer, intending to put emphasis on how important it was to protect Sammy. And it worked, Dean was determined, as any 9 year old in Dean’s place could be, in not getting caught. There was an ever growing list of bad stuff in life. Like monsters. Monsters with yellow eyes that made fire erupt on a person until they were completely consumed by it. Until nothing was left but ashes, and memories of what they were before. Monsters with sharp teeth and claws and narrowed inhuman eyes. The worst part was that they were everywhere too. They could pose like humans and even death didn’t prevent them from coming back in the form of ghosts.

Dean shivered at all the memories. Dad told him the police were bad too because they didn’t help save Mom and they couldn’t understand what was really out there. Dean didn’t quite understand what Dad meant until one hunt last year, he was told by Uncle Bobby his daddy was caught and held in jail for the night on a hunt. And then Uncle Bobby was making lots of calls and it was a week before he saw Dad again and Dean finally understood. Police were only there to help the regular folks that didn’t know any better. They weren’t there to help real heroes like Dad, like Dean. They thought they knew better and Dean remembered thinking with a bitterness that shouldn’t have been in an 8 year old kid, he thought, _the real monsters are out there and all you stupid police can do is take the wrong guy_.

Dad said the CPS was just as bad, maybe worse, because all they would want to do if they found out the truth would be to take Sammy far away from his family. And Dean didn’t want to think about that anymore. He couldn’t ever let anyone take Sammy. They would never be able to protect his brother from all the evil monsters in this world. And boy did this world have a lot of those.

He lay a protective hand over his brother’s prone form under the blanket. He could feel the outline of his shirt. His hand clenched as he thought about whoever took them here having stripped off Dean’s jacket from his brother. Someone touched Sammy while the two brothers lay unconscious and that thought didn’t exactly sit well with Dean.

With all the strength he could muster, which wasn't a lot, Dean swung his legs over the side of the bed. He looked around the room, already trying to memorize the entire layout of the room, trying to find something he could use to escape their captor. If they were a monster, Dean needed something to fight back with. He wished Dad left him a gun but Dad didn't think he was ready yet. Although Dad hinted a lot that he'd train Dean in using a firearm and take him hunting things bigger than ghosts, he still sidelined Dean to babysitting Sammy a lot. He claimed Dean wasn't old enough yet. _Not yet, son. Maybe next birthday._

It frustrated Dean but he tried not to show it. He was only 9 and someone had to be there to take care of Sammy. So that was that and Dean was all _yes sir, OK sir._

But now sitting here in who knows where with potential monsters he really wished he had more of a spine to challenge his dad. He was scared and panicking and tired and hungry and confused when the door opened.

-

Jonathan wasn't sure what it was about the boys that drew him to them. He was watching them eat slowly, carefully at breakfast. The older kid was watching him like a hawk, eyes narrowed in suspicion and muscles tensed. He looked ready to either attack Jonathan at any sudden movement or _run_.

When he wasn't watching Jonathan, which wasn't a lot, his eyes would glance over to the younger kid, Jonathan was pretty certain now they were brothers. He was slouched against the older kid as if being being close as physically possible could shield him from any harm Jonathan could do.

Jonathan Kent felt his heart clench painfully at the thought of ever doing harm to a kid. Especially these kids. He watched as Martha came back to the table with a tray of milk and coffee. She hesitated only for a moment when the older kid looked at her with suspicion before she slowly put a cup of milk in front of the younger boy.

"Thank you," it came out quietly and startled Jonathan almost badly enough to topple over in his chair. Luckily he caught himself before he could fall.

"No problem, sweetie," Martha easily before setting another cup in front of the older kid who was looking at the exchange with interest. 

Jonathan took one of the mugs and nodded his thanks as Martha sat down between Jonathan and the youngest.

The kid said, "It's Sam, not sweetie."

It must have been on reflex because as soon as the little boy said it, his eyes went wide and he covered his mouth quickly. Jonathan couldn’t help but notice the way the older boy stiffened in his chair and glared at the other boy, Sam. “Sorry,” Sam said quietly, leaning his head on the older boy’s shoulder.

“What’s there to be sorry about, Sam?” Martha asked, watching the two boys, perplexed and worried.

The boys fell back to silence after that and Jonathan bet he could cut the tension in the air with a knife. He took a sip at his coffee and got out the morning newspaper, trying to go for a semblance of normalcy. Both boys went back to picking at their food when they realized they won the keeping quiet game.

It was another awkward 5 minutes of silence before the boys finally broke. The older boy dropped the fork in his hand onto the plate with a loud clang. Jonathan and Martha both looked up. Jonathan tried to remain calm as he saw the boy glaring at him.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” the boy demanded.

Jonathan studied the angry child, wondering how to answer that. He didn’t have to thankfully. “Like who are you? _What_ are you? And what do you want with us?”

Jonathan blinked, startled by the line of questioning. “Look, kid...my name is Jonathan Kent and this is my wife Martha Kent. We’re just farmers. We found you and your brother out in the fields not too far from here,” he explained patiently. He hoped that was enough to convey to the boy they weren’t out to hurt them.

The boy relaxed only a little bit after that. He was still glaring at Jonathan, like he was unsure if he was being told the truth. His brother huddled even closer to him. Surprisingly Martha had stayed quiet through the exchange and Jonathan found himself wishing she’d say something.

“So we’re still in Kansas?” the boy asked after a long moment of silence, trying to digest all the information given to him.

“Yes. Smallville, Kansas,” Martha said. Jonathan nodded in agreement, watching the boy intently.

He wasn’t looking at either adult now, pursing his lips as he took stock of the kitchen. His eyes darted around like he was trying to memorize where everything was. Jonathan had a bad feeling about all this. The kid looked like he was planning his escape route.

“Look,” Jonathan started, causing the kid to pause and look over to him, “we want to help you two. We don’t know your story and you don’t have to share it with us if you don’t want to. We can take you to the hospital-,”

He didn’t get a chance to say anything else when the boy burst out, “NO! No hospitals. We’re fine. We’re good. We just...we have to find Dad.”

The boy suddenly stood up from the table, half a plate of food nearly spilling over from his abrupt movement. Luckily the kid had fast reflexes and managed to catch it before it shattered on the floor. He put it back on the table and pulled his little brother from the chair. “We gotta go, Sammy,” he said fiercely.

Sam looked up at his brother like he wanted to protest. He looked back at his unfinished plate and said, “But Dean...I’m still hungry,” he said, his voice soft and timid.

Martha got up and Jonathan knew from the look on her face there wasn’t a chance in hell they were walking away from this, from these boys. “We need to find Dad,” Dean said again, although his resolve was crumbling at the look on his brother’s face.

“Why don’t you let him finish his breakfast and Jonathan and I can help you boys find your dad after?” Martha offered.

Dean didn’t respond but he let go of his brother and they both sat down to eat again. Jonathan sighed, wondering what he and Martha had gotten themselves into.

It was like the boys hadn’t eaten in over a week. The two had seconds and a couple glasses of milk each. Dean seemed especially hungry, though he ate slowly and cautiously, savoring every bite like it might be his last. Martha was pleased that the food wouldn’t go to waste but Jonathan was a little troubled by the fact the boys were in such a state to begin with. Plus looking at their clothes he would have pegged them as a couple runaways. Tattered jeans that looked like they hadn’t been washed in a couple days and worn a little too much, like they didn’t have many pairs to choose from.

“What are you looking at?” Dean’s voice startled Jonathan out of his thoughts.

He was, if he was going to be honest with himself, pretty embarrassed to be caught staring. The boy was watching him carefully, his shoulders tense again. It seemed to be his default position and Jonathan couldn’t keep the concerned frown off his face.

“I, uh, nothing. Did you want to grab a shower before we went looking for your dad?” he asked softly. He noticed how Sam seemed to brighten at the idea. “I can run out and grab some new clothes for you and your brother.”

He watched Dean struggle with his emotions at the idea of Jonathan buying clothes for the boys. He was sure not many people have been nice to the brothers like this. Dean opened his mouth to argue, but then he glanced over at Sam and saw the plea in his brother’s eyes and he said instead, “I guess we could use some new clothes.”

Jonathan nodded with some relief. Part of him thought the kid was going to shoot down his offer. He was out the door before the boy could change his mind. Getting in the truck, Jonathan again wondered just what it was they were getting themselves into with these kids.

-

It turned out the boys were Sam and Dean Winchester. Their dad was John Winchester. Their mom died in a house fire. Dean had been desperate to find their dad and finally broke down after a fruitless search that lasted a week. Jonathan and Martha sat him down one night and he told them about John, how their dad’s job was extremely volatile and often had to travel. He wasn’t normally gone a long time but this time had been different. He didn’t come back like he was supposed to. Didn’t pick up his phone. And that worried Jonathan a lot.

He wasn’t sure how any parent could just ignore his children like that or leave them to fend for themselves in a motel. So many bad things could happen. 9 year old Dean Winchester looked world weary, something he was sure 9 year olds weren’t supposed to look like.

It wasn’t hard for Martha to convince him to take the two boys in for a little while longer, at least until they were able to track down this John Winchester guy. And Sam seemed to like living on the Kent farm, running around the barn and letting his brother chase him. And he knew from the interactions with Dean that the boy would never leave his little brother.

It seemed like the right choice at the time.

The only choice.


	3. Little Boy, Clark

Now Jonathan Kent hadn’t really considered himself a believer. Oh maybe he’d stepped in a church a few times a year when he grew up, but he wasn’t one who liked to go to church every Sunday. No Martha was more of a believer than he was, at least as of late. With the boys it was like something had been rekindled in Martha Kent. They gave her a renewed purpose. Instead of going through the motions of being a good married wife to a farmer, he saw a brightness in her eyes and excitement reach her lips as she chased after little Sammy. Jonathan smiled as he saw the boys rush down the stairs at the call of breakfast.

“Now hang on, Sammy,” Dean was saying, hot on his brother’s heels. The boy stumbled after the giggling child, trying to grab hold of him, but the kid darted out of his reach last minute and Dean almost tripped on the last step.

“What’s all this about?” Jonathan asked, looking on with amusement. It had been a month since the Winchester boys took residence at the Kent farm.

Sam halted in his tracks and looked up with big watery eyes that always melted through Martha’s heart. Jonathan liked to think he had more resolve and held his ground for only a minute. Dean, however, rolled his eyes.

“He took my CD player,” Dean complained, holding out his hand toward his brother. “And I want it back.”

“You took Teddy _first_!” Sam yelled. 

Jonathan sighed and eyed the two. “Can’t you two get along? You’re brothers.” Before Dean could protest, Jonathan raised a hand for him to wait. “Look, Dean, be the bigger man here and give your brother his bear back, and Sam, give your brother his CD player. OK?”

“Yes sir,” they both mumbled after a moment. 

The two exchanged items in heavy silence and Jonathan went back to reading his paper, satisfied the morning would be quiet again. It took awhile for the boys to become this open with the Kents and though the mornings could get loud with brotherly bickering, Jonathan took that as a win.

As always Martha came in with pancakes and milk for the boys. She handed Jonathan a cup of coffee before placing one down for herself as well. The phone rang in the middle of breakfast and Jonathan raised an eyebrow as Martha gave him a look to answer it.

Phone calls rarely happened as the Kents liked to keep to themselves. Jonathan found himself answering it after the second ring, Sam and Dean looking at him with interest.

“Hello?”

“Is this Jonathan Kent?”

Jonathan furrowed his brows in confusion at the unfamiliar voice on the other end. “Yes, this is Jonathan,” he said slowly. “Who’s this?”

“This is Bobby Singer,” the voice said. There was a brief pause and Jonathan could hear the man take in a sharp inhale and let it out before continuing, “Look. There’s no easy way to put this. This isn’t a social call or anything. I know you have the boys. Sam and Dean Winchester. And I need to speak to Dean. It’s important.”

Before Jonathan could say anything, Dean had seemed to materialize next to him. The boy looked up at him with such intensity blazing in his green eyes, Jonathan nearly dropped the phone, startled. He put a hand gently on Jonathan’s arm. “Is it Uncle Bobby?” he asked. Jonathan could only nod. “What does he want?”

“He wants to talk to you,” Jonathan said and handed over the phone.

It was a weird transformation. Dean took the phone and put it up to his ear. He no longer looked like a 9 year old boy. He nodded along with what the man was saying on the other end, face suddenly seriously when moments ago he had been arguing with his younger brother. It almost felt wrong for a child to look so grown up that Jonathan almost had to look away. 

“Sammy’s here too, Uncle Bobby,” Dean was saying in a hushed voice.

Jonathan looked over to Martha and noticed she had tensed up during the phone call. Little Sam had gone back to eating silently. Though from the way the little boy’s body was straightened in his chair, Jonathan had to wonder how much of it was an act. 

“Yeah. Of course he’s safe. We’re both safe,” Dean said as if the thought of being in danger with the Kents was a ridiculous notion. “Did you...find him? Dad? Oh. OK. Um, are you gonna come and pick us up soon? OK. Call back soon, please? Yeah. Uh, love you too, Uncle Bobby. Promise. You too. Bye.”

“You OK, buddy?” Jonathan asked when Dean just stood there in front of the phone after he hung up.

Dean looked up, eyes bright green and shimmering. “Yeah, I’m OK.” He swiped at his eyes and went back to the table.

“That was Bobby?” Martha asked after a moment.

Dean nodded, picking at the pancakes. “He’s still looking for Dad. He, uh,” Dean took a couple deep breaths and Jonathan could see the kid was trying to keep his emotions in check. He reached out and put a comforting hand on the kid. It seemed to help steady Dean as he said, “He doesn’t know if Dad’s even alive at this point. It’s either he really doesn’t want to be found or he’s not alive anymore.”

Jonathan exchanged a brief look with Martha. They both could see the pain on Dean’s face as he said that. Jonathan wanted to say something, to comfort him with words. But what was he supposed to say?

-

Dean kept in contact with Uncle Bobby and Pastor Jim over the following months. He wished Dad told him what it was he was hunting before he disappeared. And how could a person just drop off the grid? Didn’t Dad want to come back to Sammy and Dean if he was alive? Was the world really that dangerous that it was less dangerous to leave your sons stranded in a motel with no food and money? Dean didn’t understand. Dad couldn’t just intentionally leave Sammy and Dean. It went against the hero Dean saw him as. Because Dad was a protector. He protected the weak and defenseless, the unsuspecting. He was a good man, a good father.

In the months that Dean had been with the Kents, Dean often saw a little of John Winchester in Jonathan Kent. Of a life Dad could have led, with Sammy and Dean and Mom if she was alive. Sometimes he woke up resenting the Kents because they lived quietly on a farm and while they didn’t have kids of their own, they seemed to know a lot about raising kids. They would’ve made great parents. And OK, maybe they sometimes stumbled over what to say to Dean and Sammy and what to do...but that was just being human. It was a process. It certainly was for Dean. Sammy seemed to just follow along with whatever Dean did.

As more time passed, however, Dean found himself itching to leave and find Dad on his own. But Uncle Bobby told him not to do that. For some reason Uncle Bobby thought it would be safer for Sam and Dean to stay put in Smallville, with the Kents. At least until they could find Dad. Dean wasn’t sure why exactly, Uncle Bobby could be secretive when he wanted to be. Though Dean kind of suspected maybe it had to do with how the Kents were normal and Sammy and Dean were just kids.

But while Dean may be a kid, he was a hunter’s kid. He was a hunter just like Dad and Uncle Bobby and even Pastor Jim. It was the family business, passed on from father to son. It was just the Winchester blood. And Dean knew it, felt it in his bones. Still, part of Dean knew Uncle Bobby meant well. After all, Dean didn’t have a weapon to defend himself and there was no way he was dragging Sammy out on the road to find Dad. It was too dangerous for a 6 year old. And did Dean really want to leave Sammy here without him?

Dean had decisions to make and they were hard decisions. He was laying in bed with Sammy who was taking his afternoon nap when he heard heavy footsteps coming upstairs. Dean was up and opening the door before he could think. He saw the worried looks of Jonathan and Martha Kent and knew something was wrong.

“What is it?” Dean asked, legs suddenly feeling like jelly.

Jonathan was already pushing past him to wake Sammy up. “No time, Dean, we’ve gotta go. NOW.”

They all squeezed in the truck, Dean in between Martha and Jonathan with Sammy in his lap looking confused and tired and scared. “Everyone’s being evacuated,” Martha said as they peeled out.

“Why?” Dean asked, his mouth dry. He tried to look out the window and saw something falling out of the sky. His eyes widened as the ground shook as a meteorite crashed in the field next to them. “Is that…?”

“Yeah,” Jonathan nodded, gripping the wheel.

They didn’t get very far before more meteorites fell closer and shook the truck. Jonathan lost control and suddenly Dean was watching in almost slow motion as the world turned upside down and everything faded to darkness.

Dean wasn’t sure how long it was before he woke up. But the sky had darkened somewhat and everything was upside down. It took him longer than he wanted to admit to realize that it wasn’t that everything was upside down, but _he_ was upside down. The truck had flipped and he could see Jonathan stirring. Beside Dean, Martha was completely knocked out, bleeding from her head. Dean, still clutching Sammy, checked him for any injuries. Luckily his brother seemed to have taken the least amount of damage from the crash. His eyes were closed and he was breathing evenly. There was a bruise forming on his face but that was all Dean could see.

Dean turned his head slightly, straining to hear soft footsteps approaching the truck. He blinked lazily as a little boy came into view of the truck. His hair was dark and messy and he was pale and looked the same age as Sammy. He crouched next to Jonathan and smiled at the family in the truck. Then Dean closed his eyes and let the darkness take him again.


	4. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of the story, I've made Sam and Clark the same age. Dean is still 4 years older and Lex is 2 years older than Dean. So Sam and Clark are 14, Dean is 18 and Lex is 20.

Dean stared down at the picture of a 9 year old version of himself grinning while clutching a 5 year old Sammy in a headlock. It could’ve been a normal picture Dad had taken but the man and woman behind them weren’t Mom and Dad. They were Martha and Jonathan Kent. He remembered being on the Kent farm with Sam for almost a year before Dad finally found them. Dean remembered that year of his life so vividly it might as well have happened yesterday instead of almost a decade ago. He sighed and looked over to Sam who was sleeping in the front seat of the Impala.

Dad decided to run off without a word to Dean, _again_. Like he was a 15 year old kid who still had no idea what he was doing on a hunt. Even Bobby just sighed and called Dad an idjit when Dean explained the situation. What made everything even worse was that Bobby had no idea where Dad could have gone to because he didn’t say anything to him. It made Dean worry of course. Because this was beginning to be like the time Dad left Sam and Dean in the motel room years ago. Dean kind of suspected it had something to do with Yellow Eyes.

“You think Dad will come back, Dean?” Sam’s voice jolted Dean out of his thoughts. Well so much for letting Sammy sleep the rest of the drive.

He barely glanced over at his 14 year old brother. “Yeah, don’t worry about it, squirt.”

In the mirror, he could see his brother just frown before looking out the window at the farm land they passed. “Then why are we heading back to Smallville?” Sam didn’t bother waiting for Dean to respond before continuing, “You’re hoping Dad will find us there, like he did last time.”

“How would you know?” Dean asked in surprise, trying to focus on the road.

Sam rolled his eyes. “You know Dad and the Kents check in from time to time.” A small pause. “I caught him talking on the phone.”

“Right,” Dean said, shaking his head. Leave it to his kid brother to be one perceptive mother fucker. It was a damn good trait to have, he thought with a grin. “You’re gonna go a long way, kid,” he said out loud instead and reached over to ruffle Sam’s hair. Sam swatted his hand away and Dean couldn’t help but snicker. 

“Whatever,” Sam said but Dean saw the smile and took it as a win.

He reached over and turned on the radio, letting rock music flood the Impala, much to Sammy’s dismay. Nothing but corn fields stretched on either side of them. Farm land and corn. Welcome to sweet home, Kansas, Dean thought to himself as he drove on a familiar road that took the brothers to the Kent farm. He remembered this road.

It felt like ages ago, yet also like it was just yesterday a much younger version of he and Sammy had walked down this road to the Kent farm. It didn’t take them long before Dean was turning onto the farmland that Jonathan Kent owned. He turned off the music and killed the engine. Sam was already halfway out the Impala before Dean could even unbuckle himself. Guess he did remember the Kents after all.

The kid had only been 5 but Sam always did have a good memory. Martha and Jonathan were standing outside waiting for them. He watched as Sam darted out and ran over to give each one a hug. Dean smiled and got out of the Impala.

“Hey, Dean,” Jonathan called out.

“Hey,” Dean said.

He walked over to where the two stood with his brother, just as a tall teenager emerged from the house. Dean’s eyes widened in surprise, taking the full form of Clark in. He could hardly believe the kid grew up that fast. He was easily taller than Dean himself, and Dean was pretty damn tall. But it had to be Clark with his dark hair and blue eyes. Dean found himself smiling widely and slung an arm around the kid’s shoulder.  
“Well, look at you, my man, Clark Kent,” Dean said. “Grew up into a giant, didn’t you, kid?”

Clark laughed. “I uh, yeah. Sorry, um,” he glanced over at his parents, then back to Dean. “It’s been a while. Dean, right?”

Dean’s grin became wider. “In the flesh.” He went over to hug Martha and Jonathan. “Sorry to drop by so suddenly.”

Martha only smiled. “It’s no problem. You know that, Dean. I told you over the phone, if you ever need a place to stay, we’re always open.”

“Yeah,” Jonathan agreed. “We’ve got the guest room ready for you and your brother. There are two beds in there this time.”

“Thanks,” Dean said, biting the bottom of his lips, wondering if he should tell them the reason for their visit. “Our uh dad’s missing again.”

“Oh,” Martha said, exchanging a look with her husband.

Jonathan awkwardly cleared his throat. He looked over to his son, “Why don’t you give Sam a tour of Smallville, Clark?” Both Clark and Sam looked ready to protest. “Your mother and I have some things to catch up on with Dean.”

Clark finally relented. “Fine. Let’s go, Sam,” he said, laying a hand on Sam’s shoulder and pulling him down the stairs.

Dean looked over to his brother. “Hey, I’ll catch up with you in a bit, OK, Sammy? Don’t have too much fun without me!”

-

Clark couldn’t believe the Winchesters were back. He had almost forgotten that year when the two had been living on the Kent farm. The year that he came to living with the Kents as well. It was a little blurry, especially with how he and his parents had met. But playing with kids his own age...well, how could he forget something like that?

He grinned as he and Sam Winchester headed off the property towards town. As they got halfway past the cemetery, Sam turned over to Clark and asked, “So what’s it like living here in Smallville?”

Clark was taken by surprise at the question and shrugged. “Uh, well...I mean it’s OK. I like living here. It’s small and everyone knows each other. And it’s the only place I’ve really only known, you know?”

Sam snorted. “No I don’t know,” he said and Clark regretted saying it at the pointed look on Sam’s face. “My family...well it’s just my dad sometimes, but mostly it’s me and my brother, Dean. We move a lot. For my dad’s job mostly.” Clark could tell Sam wanted to say more but he didn’t. Instead, Sam faced forward again and they continued their trek to town in a heavy silence.

Clark realized then that he hardly knew Sam Winchester. Sure they lived together for almost a year with the Kents but that was almost a decade ago. And Clark hadn’t asked Sam about his parents or history. 

“I’m sorry about your dad,” Clark said suddenly. “You know, him going missing.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “It’s fine. It’s not really the end of the world. He’ll turn up when he wants to.” There’s a bitterness in his voice when he said it.

“He does that often? Going missing I mean?” Clark asked, wishing he wasn’t so awkward at making small talk.

“Yeah, more than you’d think,” Sam said. “Anyways, enough about me. Weren’t you going to show me around?”

“True,” Clark said with a small grin as they approached the sign welcoming them to Smallville. “Well uh welcome to Smallville then, Sam.”

They walked around Smallville for a good couple hours where Clark made small chat with a lot of people who saw them and introducing Sam around. Lana and Chloe included because they just happened to be out and about on a gorgeous Sunday afternoon. And because it was Lana and it was no secret Clark was crushing on her.

Although he still didn’t understand why, every time he came close to Lana, he’d suddenly trip over his own feet. Sam helped him up, looking amused at the exchange. Lana just looked apologetic, like it was her fault.

“Are you OK, Clark?” She asked once he got back on his feet.

Clark smiled, “Yeah, of course, Lana. I mean, sorry. I uh…” His mouth never seemed to work properly around her either. He glanced nervously over to Sam, pleading him silently to help.

Sam cleared his throat and said, “Hi, my name’s Sam Winchester. I’m new to town. Clark was just showing me around.”  
Lana offered a hand and the two shook. She smiled as she glanced from Clark to Sam, “I’m Lana Lang. I’m Clark’s friend from school. It’s nice to meet you, Sam.”

The three walked around for a bit, showing Sam around. They stopped by the high school and hung out at the front, talking like old friends. For someone who was never in places for too long, Sam was a natural at fitting in.

“So how do you guys know each other?” Lana asked, her eyes gleaming as she looked Sam up and down.

“We’re uh cousins. Distant cousins,” Clark blurted out without thinking. “He and his brother, Dean...they came to visit.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Yeah,” he said slowly.

Clark could tell Sam was wondering why he lied to Lana. Clark wished he had a better answer than saying, ‘I panicked. Sorry.’ Lana seemed to buy it though.

She leaned back and said, “Oh. I didn’t know you had cousins. But that’s pretty cool.” She gave Clark a quick hug. “I’ve got to go, Clark. I’ll see you tomorrow in school.” She turned to Sam and smiled. “I’ll probably see you tomorrow too, Sam.”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “See you tomorrow.”

With that, Lana ran off, leaving Clark and Sam alone on the steps of the high school.

“So,” Sam began. “Lana’s pretty interesting.”

Clark nodded. “Yeah, she is.” He looked to Sam and smiled. He wanted to show Sam one more place before they headed back. “I’ve got one more spot I want to show you.”

It was nearing dinner time before Clark decided to call it a day and walk Sam back to the farm. They’d taken a detour on the bridge. This was the place Clark wanted to show to Sam. Clark liked it here because it was peaceful.

Clark sighed. “Guess we’re going to have to head back soon. It’s almost dinner,” he explained at Sam’s questioning look.

Sam nodded. “Yeah, don’t need them worrying about us, especially Dean.”

Just as Sam pushed off the rails, they both heard the incoming car. Sam dove to the side but Clark barely had time to do anything before he rocketing off the bridge. As he fell into the water, he heard Sam’s frantic yelling, “CLARK!”

Clark wasted no time trying to find the car and rip open the top to help the driver. It was a bald guy who looked a little older than Clark, dressed in a dark jacket and shirt. He released the buckle and swam them both to the surface where Sam looked down with a panicked expression on his face. He looked at Clark momentarily confused before Clark swam to shore. Sam met them both down there as Clark performed CPR.

He hoped Sam wouldn’t ask him questions just yet. Clark was relieved when Sam focused on the dying guy instead of him after a moment. “Come on,” Clark said under his breath as he pumped air into the guy’s mouth. “Don’t die on me.”

The guy came to after a couple tries and Clark released a sigh of relief. “Thank God,” he said.

The guy looked at Clark, his breathing labored. He could tell the guy was pretty confused. “I could’ve sworn I hit you,” he said.

Clark considered lying but decided against it. “You did,” he answered. “You did hit me.”

The guy somehow managed to stay awake and was on his phone, making calls. Soon enough the three were surrounded by police cars and paramedics. Clark’s parents and Dean Winchester arrived not too long after, demanding to know what happened. Clark looked helplessly to his father and then to Sam. His father froze, suddenly nervous as he understood Clark’s silent question.

Sam knew. He saw him. _What do I tell Sam and Dean_?

It was hard keeping his abilities hidden away. But getting hit by a car at 60 MPH and not having a scratch on you...well that was even harder to explain. He couldn’t lie. Sam saw the whole thing. And the way he looked at Clark, scared, unsure. Yeah, it was probably for the best that the Winchesters knew the truth.

Then his father shot him a look that said, ‘We’ll figure this out when it gets to that.’ And Clark tried to relax. “Everything’s going to be alright, son,” Jonathan said as he hugged Clark. “Thank God you’re OK, though.” He glanced up at the cops taking down information. “Do you know who’s responsible for all this?” His demand was loud and Clark winced.

“That would be me, sir. Lex Luthor,” the guy Clark saved walked over to them. His hand was extended out and Clark simply glanced from Luthor to his father. Jonathan ignored it in favor of wrapping his jacket over Clark.

“Jonathan Kent,” his father said. It came out forced and bitter. “This is my son, Clark.”  
“Thanks for saving my life,” Luthor said.

“I’m sure you’d have done the same thing,” Clark said.

There was a slight pause as they got up and started to walk away. “You’ve got an extraordinary boy there, Mr. Kent. If there’s any way I could repay you…”

Jonathan Kent turned around and said, “Drive slower.”

Meeting Lex Luthor had been on Clark’s mind the whole drive back. There was something about the guy that got under Clark’s skin. He tried not to dwell on it but it was hard, because then he’d have to think about Sam instead. And he wasn’t sure what was worse. Saving a stranger after getting hit by the stranger’s car going 60 or having to explain how you’re still alive to an old friend who witnessed the whole thing. Clark wished his life was simpler.

“So start spilling,” Dean said, wasting no time as they ate dinner. “Sammy here said you just got hit, head on, by a car going almost 70 and you’re not dead. Like not even close. _What_ are you?” His voice was low, tone accusing.

Clark wasn’t sure what to say. “Look I can explain. Kind of. I’ve got these things I can...do. I just, I don’t know. Ever since I can remember, nothing’s been able to hurt me,” Clark said. He wasn’t sure how he could explain much better than that. He didn’t really know himself. “I mean...look, you guys know I was adopted.”

He looked over to his parents for help. Martha sighed and lay a hand on Jonathan’s. “I think you should just show him,” she said.

Everyone had the table seemed to tense. Clark looked at them, baffled. “What are you guys talking about? Show me what?” he demanded, standing up.

Dean and Sam were already on their feet. “What’s going on?” Dean asked.

Jonathan just sighed and stood up. “Come on, I’ll show all of you. Son,” he turned to look at Clark. “Your parents...your mother and I don’t think they’re from around here.”

Clark raised an eyebrow, “Like from Kansas?”

“No,” Martha said, “like from around here…” She gestured helplessly with her hands.

Sam furrowed his eyebrows, trying to understand what they were hinting at. The five of them had walked outside and were heading to the storm cellar. 

“Are you trying to say I wasn’t born on Earth?” Clark asked, skeptical.

“Aliens aren’t real,” Dean blurted out.

Jonathan and Martha exchanged looks again. Clark really didn’t like how tonight was progressing. “You can’t be serious,” he said. They didn’t say anything and Clark looked to the Winchesters. He couldn’t read their expressions either and that made him even more nervous. “Do you have my ship stored somewhere?” he asked his parents half jokingly.

“Uh, in the storm cellar actually, son,” Jonathan said.

“You’re kidding,” Clark said.

“Afraid not,” Martha said.

The cellar wasn’t super big but it was enough for the five of them to move around...and to apparently hide Clark’s spaceship. They hadn’t been lying. Clark looked at it, awestruck. He came to Earth in a spaceship.

He was so caught up with the ship he almost didn’t hear the soft click of the gun behind him.

“OK, don’t move,” Dean’s voice rang into the cellar.

Everyone froze.


	5. Aliens and Hunters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always felt if Martha and Jonathan can be accepting of Clark being an alien, it isn't so out there to believe in other supernatural things too.

Dean wasn’t sure what to think. He still wasn’t sure if Clark was an alien but he certainly was something. There was no way Clark was human. A human couldn’t survive a car plowing through him at 60 MPH with not a scratch on him. If it had been his brother in front of that car, and God he loved his brother, but there was no way Sam would have survived that, even as a well trained hunter. So how in hell could Clark…?

Without realizing what he was doing, he had his gun in hand and was clicking the safety off. He noticed Clark tense at the sound and that panicked Dean even more. He gritted his teeth and said, “OK, don’t move.”

Everyone around him froze, including his little brother. _Well shit_ , he thought. _Real smooth, Winchester_. Realizing it was too late to back out now, Dean stood frozen in place with the gun pointed to Clark’s back. He wasn’t going to pull the trigger. At least not unless he had to. His hunter instinct was screaming at him to just shoot the kid dead and not ask questions. He fought the urge down, because this was Clark. This was the Kents who took Sam and Dean in when they were kids and they should at least hear them out. And then it’d be Sam and Dean’s turn to face the music. Dean could only hope they wouldn’t just turn their backs and run for the hills.

He didn’t want to go back to Bobby’s and see that ‘I told you so’ on his face. Dean was tired of running to be honest. He was getting exhausted of this life, of driving from town to town and hunting things no one else wanted to know about and save people who didn’t even thank them. But it was the family business and Dean didn’t get a say because he was a Winchester.

“So,” Dean said, “someone better start talking.” He gestured at Clark, then at the ship. The gun hadn’t moved, still aimed at Clark.

Clark slowly started to turn around so he could face Dean. Dean watched him warily as Sam stood behind him, still shocked his brother pulled out a gun. Dean looked over to Martha and Jonathan who still seemed dumbfounded that Dean was pointing a gun at their son. “Dean, listen,” Clark said, trying to stay calm. “I don’t know what’s going on anymore than you. I swear. Just put the gun down and maybe we can figure this out.” He didn’t seem as worried as he should be for a guy who had a gun in his face, after the initial shock wore off. “It’s not like the gun can do anything to me anyways.”

Dean huffed, remembering the guy survived a car running into him and survived. Fuck, he thought as he realized the gun probably wouldn’t do anything. He slowly set the gun on the ground after he clicked the safety back on. He crossed his arms and glared, “Right. Just super. Look someone start talking then.”

It was cold in the cellar, and Dean fought to not shiver as everyone took a spot to sit or stand. Dean and Sam huddled together by the entrance. The Kents huddled on the other side by the ship. The gun was on the floor in the middle, pointedly ignored. Still, Dean’s threat hung in the air. So it didn’t matter.

Jonathan looked at them, rubbing his face tiredly. “Do you boys remember the day of the meteor shower?”

Dean snorted. How could he forget? “Yeah,” he said.

Sam just shrugged. “Kind of.” At everyone’s surprised looks, he said, “What? I was like 5.”

“We didn’t adopt Clark the normal way,” Martha said, breaking her silence at last. She looked almost lost in the memory. “Clark found us that day. We were trying to get out of Smallville with you boys. Then the truck overturned.”

“Clark was probably 5 years old,” Jonathan said, continuing the story. “He just walked over to the truck.”

Dean looked uneasy. He remembered vaguely seeing a kid that looked like a younger version of Clark that day. “Did he...did you turn the truck back over?” he asked Clark.

Clark sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah,” he said. “I did. I don’t know how. But I was a little kid and I picked up the truck with you guys in it and turned it back over.” 

It was quiet for a moment before Clark said, “You know...I thought it was all a dream. Because there was no way a kid could pick up a truck like that. Or get hit full on by a car. Things have been happening lately that I can’t explain. And now, this...I find out my parents hid a spaceship in the cellar that I supposedly came to Earth in...it just doesn’t feel real.”

And huh. That confession didn’t seem like it’d come from something evil. Dean hesitated, thinking back to all the supernatural creatures he and his dad hunted over the years. He looked down at the gun on the floor, refusing to look at the Kents anymore. He wondered when the black and white of his life started to blur into gray. Dean suddenly found himself wishing Dad was here. Dad would’ve known what to do. He always did.

“So you think you’re an alien?” Sam asked softly.

Dean nearly forgot his brother was sitting beside him. Dean heard Clark’s huff of laughter. “What else could I be, Sam?” Clark asked. “I have my own spaceship.”

“Oh Clark,” came Martha’s voice, gentle and consoling and Dean watched as she pulled the kid into a hug. It was almost funny how big he was compared to her, nearly engulfing her in the hug.

Then Jonathan was there with them and embracing them awkwardly. “You’re our son. You’ll always be our son.”

Dean felt Sam shift, then his brother’s hand was on his shoulder. It was a reminder he wasn’t alone. And Dean realized in that moment, he couldn’t kill Clark, even if he wasn’t human. He wasn’t watching a family of monsters, just a family.

After Clark’s secret was out of the bag, Dean realized it was Sam and Dean’s turn. He gulped at the possibility of being rejected by the Kents. Going from town to town, Dean never had true friends. He never had a true family that wasn’t Sam and Dad. People either got hurt or they left. Sometimes they died.

He didn’t want to think what category the Kents could be in. But that didn’t matter right now. He felt all eyes on him, like lasers. They were all waiting for he and his brother to share their story. Dean gulped, nervous. He curled his fingers into fists. It felt like Dean was being led to his execution.

Sam didn’t wait for Dean to be ready though. “We’re hunters,” Sam said simply. Dean’s head shot up to look at his brother in shock. There wasn’t any preamble. “We hunt things, not animals. Like monsters and ghosts and stuff...from nightmares.”

Dean wanted to protest, wanted to say ‘ _that’s not true. You don’t hunt, Sammy. Dad and I do._ ’ But he couldn’t get his mouth to work just yet. Everything felt dry and he was still reeling from all the information he had been handed. About the Kents and Clark, especially.

When it was obvious Dean still couldn’t say anything, Sam became bolder. “Our mom died when I was a baby. 6 months old. A demon killed her. Dad became obsessed with finding the demon and we’ve been on the road ever since.”

It felt wrong talking about their lives in front of the Kents. After all, even with just one year living with them, they were still essentially strangers. Sam and Dean had been keeping secrets from them, just as they had to the Winchesters. It was obvious neither family trusted each other. At least fully. 

Dean hated being vulnerable. Especially to people who weren’t Sam and Dad. And sitting here and telling them their secrets and waiting to be judged - that was as vulnerable as Dean ever got. 

It took awhile for the Kents to digest what Sam had told them. Dean was fidgeting, waiting for them to kick him and his brother out. It didn’t come.

Instead, he heard someone walking over and he tensed. Suddenly Jonathan Kent was crouching down in front of him. It was like he could read Dean’s inner thoughts. Jonathan then pulled him in a tight hug. “We believe you, kiddo. And we’re not going anywhere.” He pulled back and Dean could see his eyes brimming with tears. “We’re all going to figure this out _together_. Without killing anyone, OK?” He looked pointedly at the gun.

Dean had forgotten about that. He nodded, still unsure this wasn’t just a dream.

-

The Winchester boys compelled Martha to believe in them the same way Clark did. She wasn’t sure what it was but she knew the feeling she felt that day when Clark came into their lives. Even with the gun Dean aimed at Clark’s back, Martha didn’t run to try and save her son. That same feeling had her rooted in place and told her Dean wasn’t going to shoot Clark. Maybe it was because she still remembered 9 year old Dean Winchester, cold and hungry and tired, looking beyond exhausted as he pulled his equally exhausted little brother through the cornfield. But she wondered if it was something much more.

Like it was just destiny for her to find the kids that day, to let them into her and Jonathan’s home and nurse them to health for a year. It was destiny for them to come back almost a decade later, still world weary. Martha wasn’t sure she believed in destiny, in fate, but it was getting harder to deny when it was staring her in the face. 

And as she watched her husband hug Dean Winchester as she held onto Clark for dear life, she realized that maybe Jonathan felt it too. Something about all three kids had called out to them both. For a moment, Martha let herself wonder what it was. Only for a moment though.

It wasn’t for another hour before they all headed back to the house. They were all too tired from the discussion. Martha and Jonathan wanted to find out more about Sam and Dean’s lives but they could tell the Winchester boys didn’t want to talk anymore. Martha knew they’d have to wait until tomorrow, possibly after Clark got out of school. Even with all the excitement, Clark wasn’t going to skip class. Clark could protest all he wanted but Martha wasn’t going to budge on that.

As she lay in bed with Jonathan that night, Martha couldn’t help but wonder if that was why Sam and Dean had been left alone that day they’d been in the cornfield. Their father had gone missing, that was what Dean had said back then. He had been vague about their father’s job. It made sense now. John Winchester had been on a hunt that went sideways.

Martha remembered the day Winchester had come back for his kids. It had been memorable for sure. A lot of yelling and tears. Mostly from her husband and John Winchester. That was the only time the Kents had met Sam and Dean’s father.

She fell asleep hoping John didn’t show up the next day. 

John didn’t thankfully. Or not so thankfully depending on how you saw it.

The boys explained their father went missing again. Didn’t bother saying anything to Dean. Just left without a word. And Dean had been hoping if they hung out here, John would eventually come back for them. Martha remembered it took the man almost a year to pick up the boys last time they had been in Smallville. She vaguely wondered how long it would be before he showed up this time, bloodied and pissed off.

Clark came back from school the following day looking slightly annoyed. “What’s wrong, Clark?” Martha asked.

“It’s...just the star quarterback of the football team,” Clark said, throwing his bag down in frustration. “He’s been all over Lana since school started.”

“Oh,” Martha said, looking surprised. “Whitney, right? Lana’s boyfriend?”

Clark scowled at the table. “Yeah, something like that,” he grumbled.

Martha rolled her eyes at her son’s behavior. Just as she was about to question Clark further, the backdoor opened and Dean and Sam came stomping in. Dean’s clothes were dirty with mud and he frowned as his brother walked in first. Sam was clean and smiling. He tossed his shoes off and nodded at them in greeting.

“Hi Clark and Mrs. Kent,” Sam said rather cheerfully.

“What happened to you?” Clark asked Dean.

“He did,” Dean said, pointing to Sam. 

“What are you talking about?” Sam asked. Dean shoved him forward. “Hey!”

“You know what you did, squirt,” Dean mumbled.

Martha raised an eyebrow at the exchange. Sam shrugged, “I just volunteered him to help out Mr. Kent on the field.” Dean shoved his brother again. “Hey. Will you quit that? It wasn’t like you were doing anything.”

“I was!” Dean said. “And it was your turn with the chores. Why do I always get stuck doing your dirty work?”

“Whatever,” Sam grumbled. “So how was school, Clark?”

Clark sighed. “I keep embarrassing myself with Lana.”

Dean seemed to perk up at that. “That the chick you’re hung up on?”

Martha watched as Clark turned a shade of pink. She grinned as the three boys started to bicker about girls. Sam and Dean had made their way over to the table and sat down. Clark was still leaning against the table, listening intently to Dean’s _expert_ advice.

It was funny watching the Winchester boys interact with Clark. For a little while Martha could pretend they were all normal.

“I don’t know what his problem is with me,” Clark said.

Dean shrugged, looking somewhat clueless. He scratched the back of his neck. “Look, maybe he sees you as a threat or something.”

“I mean I like her but it’s not like she’d be interested in me,” Clark sighed and hung his head. “She lives like a mile from here and has never even visited.”

“Well if she and that guy are a couple, it’s not like she can really show you interest now. That’d be cheating,” Sam pointed out.

“Right. But I mean even before they became an item,” Clark said.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Maybe she did and you never noticed?”

“I would notice if Lana showed any sign she liked me,” Clark protested.

Dean snorted. “Sure, dude. Sorry, Clark but you don’t strike me as someone who’d notice those things. You’re actually kind of the opposite.”

“Thanks,” Clark muttered.

The conversation came to a halt when Jonathan Kent came in, tracking more mud into the house. Martha rolled her eyes as her husband came over and kissed her on the cheek. He looked up at the boys with a smile and a gleam of mischief in his eyes.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he said. “The conversation seemed like an interesting one.”

“They were just making fun of me, Dad,” Clark said, crossing his arms. 

“No we weren’t,” Dean said. He paused at the look Clark shot him. “Fine. We were a little. Anyways we were also giving you some pointers.”

“Pointers? On what?” Clark asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Dating, of course,” Dean said. 

“Dating? Lana? Come on,” Clark chuckled nervously.

Jonathan’s eyebrows shot up at that. “Son, when were you going to tell me you had a girlfriend?”

Clark’s eyes went wide as he turned to his dad. “Dad! I don’t have a girlfriend. Honest! And it’s definitely not Lana Lang. Besides, she's already got a boyfriend. The star quarterback?”

“Oh,” Jonathan said, looking somewhat surprised.

Martha finally decided to get up and make dinner now that everyone was in the house. “As much as I’d love for us to continue this conversation, I think I’m going to need some help in the kitchen and for everyone to wash up for dinner.”

There was a collective, ‘Yes, ma’am’ from the men and everyone rushed to freshen up and help. Martha sighed. She could get used to the loud chatter.


	6. Visions

For the first time since he was 5 years old, Sam Winchester, was able to live a normal life with a normal family and pretend it was _his_ life, for more than a week. Sure, Dean was still trying to track down their dad, and the Kents finally found out the Winchester secret. Despite all that, however, Sam was feeling pretty good. He wasn’t enrolled in school just yet because Dean wasn’t sure how long they were really staying, but Sam’s gut feeling said to give it a couple more days and he was going to go to high school with _Clark Kent_ , who was his friend and happened to be an _alien_ with _powers_. 

How awesome was that? Like how many other 14 year olds got to say they had a friend who could lift a 9,000 plus pound truck without breaking a sweat? Sam wasn’t sure what else Clark could do but it didn’t really matter, because with strength like that, he was practically a _superhero_. Dean wasn’t as impressed but at least he agreed that Clark wasn’t evil and he didn’t need to die. Although Dean would get this look in his eyes from time to time and his hand would clench into a fist and then he’d stop himself and relax and Sam realized just how ingrained the hunting life was in Dean.

Sometimes Sam had to stop himself from wondering if Clark ever did go evil, who could even stop him if a car at 60 MPH couldn’t even scratch him? It was a scary thought and Sam had to busy himself doing other things to not worry about it.

It was Friday when Sam heard the front door slam. He peeked out of the kitchen to see Clark tugging off his shoes with a grimace. Sam walked out to greet him.

“Hey, Clark,” he said. “You OK?”

Clark looked up and smiled. “Oh hey, Sam.” At Sam’s silence, he sighed and said, “Yeah. I’m fine. Well, OK. That’s not all true. Well...there’s this school dance. And uh, I talked with Lana…”

“You did?” Sam asked, surprised. He wondered if the conversation they had a week prior actually helped. 

“Yeah,” Clark’s voice was quiet now. “We talked a couple nights ago. And Sam, I think what happened to Lana’s parents is my fault.”

“What?” Sam stared at Clark, disbelief in his voice. “You can’t actually think that.”

Clark gave a little shrug. He looked resigned. “Listen, it makes sense. I fell to Earth with those meteors. You can’t believe it’s all just a big coincidence.”

“Maybe it is!” Sam’s voice came out louder than he wanted. He winced. Clark stared at him in surprise. “It’s not like you can control where those meteors crashed...right?”

“Yeah,” Clark conceded. “I don’t think I can but it’s still my fault. When my spaceship crashed on this planet, those meteors came too.”

Sam sighed. He walked over to Clark and put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not your fault, Clark.”

Clark looked him in the eyes. “I wish I could believe that, Sam,” he said before he stomped past Sam and up the stairs.

Sam heard the slam of his door. 

In some ways, Clark reminded Sam, of his own brother. Dean felt guilty for a lot of things that were beyond his control as well. He blamed himself for their mom’s death and how Sam could never have a normal life. Sam wondered if it was just something that tragic heroes had to deal with. After all, both Clark and Dean were heroes. 

Sam was just glad he wasn’t one too. 

Feeling guilty all the time didn’t look fun.

Unfortunately things didn’t stay normal for long. In fact, it was a couple nights before the dance when things got pretty strange. Sam had a dream and Clark Kent was in it. He tossed and turned in bed. Dean was beside him, shaking his body gently when he awoke, drenched in sweat and looking scared.

“Are you OK, Sammy?” Dean asked, his voice urgent, his tone worried.

Sam wasn’t sure. He sat up, hands coming up to wipe the sweat from his brow. He looked at his brother, a mix of confusion and worry on his face. “I think Clark might be in danger,” he said.

“What?” His brother’s grip on his arm tightened a little.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” Sam said. “I just...had this weird dream and a feeling in my gut.”

Sam felt Dean’s grip loosen and he looked back up at Dean. Dean’s face was still expressed worry. “Sammy, it was just a dream,” he said gently.

_Clark Kent was in just his boxers, strung up to a scarecrow in the middle of a vast field of corn. He looked beaten, and helpless. His eyes were looking off into the distance. Painted red on his bare chest was the letter ‘S’._

Sam’s head pounded. He grasped his head again as he gasped in pain. He could barely hear his brother in the background as his headache intensified and more flashes appeared before him. He knew it wasn’t just a dream.

_Clark looked him dead in the eye and mouthed, ‘Sammy...help me. Please…’_

And then Sam found himself curled in a ball on the bed with his brother. Dean’s eyes came into focus. Bright green eyes that looked like they were seeing through Sam and into his soul. “Hang in there, man,” Dean was saying. “I got you, Sammy.”

Sam wanted to swat his brother’s hands from his face, but he was still in pain. His head hurt, not as badly as before thankfully. “I’m...fine,” he said. He wasn’t.

He could tell Dean didn’t buy it for a minute. 

“I just need...some more sleep,” Sam said before he shut his eyes again.

His brother’s voice sounded far away and Sam couldn’t be bothered to care. He let the darkness consume him.

-

Clark knew something was up when both Sam and Dean came downstairs a couple hours later that night looking scared and tired. He looked over to both his parents and realized no one got any sleep. He went over to the fridge and pulled out a large bottle of juice. Dean shook his head at the offer but Sam nodded and went to grab a couple cups for them.

His mom offered Dean coffee instead and Dean took it without hesitation. Once Clark and Sam were both settled with their orange juice, it was like a sign for the floodgates to open.

“I had a bad dream,” Sam said, starting first. He was fiddling with his cup and refused to meet anyone’s eyes. “Well more than a dream.”

“What do you mean?” Jonathan asked. He leaned forward on his chair, looking interested.

“I don’t know,” Sam said after a moment. “I saw, um, Clark.”

Clark looked surprised. “What?”

Sam finally looked up. Clark could see an intensity in his brown eyes. “I saw you tied to a scarecrow in the middle of a field.”

Clark’s heart started racing. Why would Sam dream of him tied to a scarecrow? Clark wasn’t sure what to make of what Sam said.

“It’s just a dream,” Dean said quietly, glancing from Sam to Clark. “That’s what I’ve been telling Sammy. There’s nothing to worry about, Clark.” He said it sincerely, like he believed it.

Dean might think it was just a dream, but from the way Sam was looking at Clark, he was sure Sam didn’t share the same belief. Sam stood up just as Dean went to pull him down. Sam stepped out of his brother’s reach and walked over to Clark. He took a breath.

“I think you’re in danger, Clark,” Sam said. His face was serious and Clark couldn’t help but believe him. “I think these dreams are actually visions.”

“Why would you think that?” Martha asked before Clark could respond. Clark looked to his mom and saw panic in her eyes.

“Because they felt real, more vivid. Like I was actually there,” Sam answered. “And I’m getting them when I’m awake.”

There was silence in the room. Clark was sure he could drop a pin and it would be the only sound in there.

Sam’s late night confession had everyone scared. He watched distantly as Dean kept telling Sam it wasn’t real and to quit trying to rile everyone up, Martha just looked plain scared and nervous and kept demanding Sam for more details, and Jonathan tried to get everyone to calm down. Unsuccessfully because Jonathan was also a little shaken. Sam though...he kept looking at Clark like he was going to disappear.

Clark wasn’t sure how to take it. If Sam was right and this was going to happen to Clark...he wanted to know why and how and when. Why was he so helpless tied up to a scarecrow? He had strength that no human could match (that he knew of). 

“There was another detail,” Sam said after everyone finally calmed down. He looked directly at Clark. “You were wearing some kind of a green crystal around your neck. If that helps any.”

Clark racked his brain for why it sounded familiar. Then he realized… 

“Lana,” he mumbled to himself.

Clark was tired the next day at school. He stayed up late the night before to go over the details of the vision Sam had. The consensus everyone came to was that Clark would continue to go to school and be careful. Whatever happened to Clark was enough to leave him powerless and almost human. Martha didn’t like the idea of sending her son into potential danger but no one was even sure it had anything to do with him going to school in the first place.

So reluctantly Clark went. He wanted to talk to Lana though regarding the necklace because Sam saw it on him in the vision. He suspected there might be more to the crystal than he ever thought. 

Chloe ran into him in the hallway first. Clark wasn’t paying attention and nearly jumped when she shouted, “Boo!”

She laughed at his reaction as Clark pushed her playfully. “Don’t sneak up on me like that, Chloe,” he said with false anger. He was grinning when he saw her beam at him.

“Whatever you say, Clark,” she said with a wink. The playful moment was gone when Chloe shoved a news article into Clark’s hands.

“What’s this?” Clark asked.

“Read it,” Chloe said. “And follow me.”

He read it. Then reread it. A freak electrical surge rendered a couple people in a garage unconscious. He raised an eyebrow as he followed silently behind Chloe. He stepped inside an office with news articles plastered to the walls. He looked around for a while, taking in all the articles with titles like ‘ _Weird Things Happening in Smallville_ ’. Clark crossed his arms as Chloe turned back to look at him expectantly.

“What is this?” he asked.

Chloe gestured proudly to the wall behind her and said, “Welcome to the _Wall of Weird_.”

As Chloe talked about the Wall of Weird, Clark tried to take it all in. This was crazy. Between finding out he was an alien, may or may not be responsible for Lana’s parents’ deaths, Sam’s vision, and now Chloe’s wacky wall...well there was only so much Clark Kent could take in a day.

“OK, slow down, Chloe,” Clark cut his friend off. He wanted time to catch up. “So...what, after the meteor shower, you decided to collect all these articles and put them up on a wall?”

Chloe sighed. “No, after the shower, there have been a lot of strange things happening here and I’ve been trying to find answers,” she corrected. She looked at Clark with earnest eyes. “There have been things going on here...that no one can explain. Don’t you find that weird, Clark?”

“A little, I guess,” Clark conceded. 

The rest of the day went on with little incident. It wasn’t until he saw Whitney and some of his teammates glaring at him that Clark started to wonder. He really hoped he was wrong. He watched as Lana glanced at him before Whitney took her hand and said, “Come on, Lana.”

He caught a glimpse of the green crystal around her neck. He took a stumbling step back as he felt a tingle shoot through his fingers. It was gone when they all left.

-

_John Winchester was closing in on the demon. He was sure of it. The stench of sulfur was still in the air. John heard something moving in the distance and he tensed up, holding position. He glared at the shadow. This was it. Then something fast and blurry launched at him and on instinct, John shielded his face with an arm._

Sam sat up in bed with a start. It was the night before Clark’s dance and his dreams were getting more intense by the night. This time, the dream was about his dad. Sam knew John was hunting something, pretty sure it was a demon, or the demon. He looked over to the other bed and saw his brother curled underneath the blankets. Sam was quieter now because he didn’t want to wake Dean up. Dean barely slept since the night of Sam’s first vision.

He slid back into the covers and laid his head on the pillow. He looked up at the darkened ceiling and wondered vaguely where his dad was. He hoped he was OK and he would at least call them back. Dean’s calls only went to voicemail. Sam was honestly surprised Dean wasn’t getting tired of Dad not picking up. Every day, Dean would leave a message. A short update saying they were OK and the Kents were looking after them. Sometimes it was longer though and once Sam caught Dean pleading with Dad through the bathroom. The walls were thin and it was easy to eavesdrop. Sam didn’t mean to but he did nonetheless.

He drifted to sleep after a little while.

_“You’re going to tell me where it is,” his dad’s voice drifted closer._

_Sam watched as a dark room formed. He could see a devil’s trap painted on concrete floor and John was walking around in it, holding holy water in one hand and a knife in the other. He looked angry. There was another man sitting in the chair in the middle of the trap. His wrists and ankles were tied to the chair and he was smiling._

_He didn’t say anything as his dad continued to interrogate him. Even the holy water, while it looked like it hurt a lot from the way the man screamed, didn’t seem to affect his ability to talk._

_His dad started muttering in Latin. The man’s eyes blinked black and smoke started to come out but before it could get all the way out, his dad stopped and sliced the knife across the man’s arm. Sam watched in horror as orange light flashed through the demon’s flesh. He blinked, stumbling back._

_He decided he needed to wake up now. Before he could though, the demon suddenly paused in its shrieking and looked back at him with black eyes. It smiled widely and said, “I see you, Sammy.”_

_Then John turned and looked at Sam too and his eyes turned yellow. He grinned and it looked eerie on his dad’s face. “We’ll meet soon, don’t you worry, Sammy-boy.”_


	7. Scarecrow

“So where would there be a field with a scarecrow in it?” Dean asked the next morning. Sam had yet another vision that included Clark. He figured since they were becoming a lot more frequent in the past couple nights, the vision was going to happen soon. He wanted them ready to help Clark and the more information, the better.

He watched as Clark struggled to remember. He nursed his coffee as he waited for the kid to get the details straight. Finally, Clark said, “Riley Field, I think.”

“Do you really think Whitney has something to do with it?” Jonathan asked as he glanced at the boys over the newspaper he was reading. He put it down. 

Clark had told them all of his suspicions. Lana. Whitney. If Dean hadn’t lived through bullying of his own, he’d also think it was crazy Clark suspected the football team to be behind stringing Clark to a scarecrow.

Dean kept silent, sipping on his coffee.

Martha sat down at the table with breakfast. Everyone dug in.

“I think it’s a strong possibility,” Clark said after a while. He glanced at the clock and realized he had 20 minutes before the bus came. 

“Look, son, maybe we’re over analyzing this,” Jonathan said. He gestured to Sam, “We’re still not sure when it happens. Sam only gets pieces, not the whole thing.”

Clark’s hand clenched tightly around his fork. “Then how do you explain Lana’s necklace on me?”

“Maybe she gives it to you,” Martha suggested.

“Yeah but why and when?” Clark asked. “She says it’s special to her, mom. I just don’t get why I would be wearing it.”

Clark was getting frustrated. Understandably so. Still, it wasn’t helping anyone any, going around in a circle like this. Dean sighed and took another sip from his coffee. “Look, Clark, maybe your dad’s right,” Dean said finally. He ignored the incredulous expression on Clark’s face as he turned to look at Dean. “I’m just saying, we don’t know much. If this is a vision, it’s not a full vision. So let’s not try to overthink it. Just go to your classes today, act normal. Then go to the dance. I can come by the field and wait around just in case.”

Clark relaxed somewhat after he said the last part, though both Jonathan and Martha shot Dean some concerned looks. He leaned back in his chair. “I’m a hunter. If anything happens to Clark, I can be there to protect him,” Dean said.

“But who’s going to protect you, Dean?” Martha asked. It was obvious she didn’t like the idea of Dean being there alone, especially after hearing Clark wouldn’t be at full capacity.

“I’ll go too,” Sam announced, jumping from his seat.

“Now hang on,” Dean protested. He glared at his younger brother.

“No, Dean. If you’re going, I’m going too,” Sam said stubbornly.

“You’re a kid. You’ve never hunted anything in your life,” Dean argued. He couldn’t believe he was having this conversation with Sam now.

“This isn’t even a hunt,” Sam said.

“Now hold up,” Jonathan Kent said. He turned to look at Dean. “Do you really think it’s something supernatural?”

“I don’t know,” Dean admitted. “But even if it’s just some stupid high school bullying, something that can hurt Clark when a speeding car can’t...well that’s nothing good.”

“You’re right,” Clark relented. “I could probably use the backup.”

Jonathan looked between the Winchester boys and Clark thoughtfully for a moment, like he was trying to assess the situation. Dean was reminded of his dad when he was on a hunt. Moments like these made him a little homesick.

“Now wait a minute. Are we really considering putting all of the kids in danger, Jonathan?” Martha asked.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Kent,” Dean said. “I’ll protect Clark any way I can. And I’ll be fine going alone,” he added, sparing a glance to his younger stubborn brother. He was met with defiant brown eyes.

“I’m not a kid anymore, Dean,” Sam grumbled. “If Clark’s in danger, I should be there to help too. Especially since they’re _my_ visions.”

“And you helped plenty, Sammy,” Dean responded. “With your visions.”

“It’s Sam and that’s not enough,” Sam argued.

“Hey guys,” Clark said, holding up his hands. “Look if Sam’s vision actually comes true, maybe it’d be better to have both of you there. I mean what if something happens to you too, Dean?”

“And if something happens to Sam?” Dean asked, growing even more frustrated at being doubled teamed. He looked over to Jonathan and Martha for help.

“I think your brother has a point,Sam. It could be dangerous,” Martha said immediately, on the same page as Dean. She looked worried.

Jonathan on the other hand was still looking at Sam thoughtfully. Finally he said, “What else went on in your vision, Sam?”

Dean couldn’t believe Jonathan was even humoring his brother. But Sam jumped on the chance to be even a little useful. He could see the hint of excitement in Sam’s brown eyes. He wondered if being cooped up in the house was making Sam restless and bored. Now he was seeking out adventure where he could find it.

He relayed more details of his dream-vision. How Clark had stared him in the eyes and asked for help. The green crystal glinting around his neck. Dean had no choice but to concede to the fact that Sam may be more involved than anyone would like and he might be helpful if he was close by and got another vision. Dean still didn’t like the thought of how close to danger Sam would be. But Clark and Dean would be there too.

With the conversation more or less wrapped up, Jonathan thought it might be best if the brothers gave Clark a lift to school and they could hang around in case anything happened to Clark. Then they’d head over to the field and hang around there for a while. Clark would go to the dance as planned after school.

Clark still wasn’t sure who he was taking to the dance. Dean could tell the kid was still hung up on Lana. Dean rolled his eyes at the melodrama that was high school. He let Sammy climb into the front passenger seat while Clark took the back. He turned on rock music and watched as both Clark and Sam frowned.

He sighed. Of course Clark was more similar to Sam when it came to musical taste.

“Can’t we listen to something else?” Sam complained as he started up the engine and pulled out of the farm.

Dean rolled his eyes. He was so not having this argument this early in the morning. “Can’t hear ya, little brother,” he said instead and turned it up a little more.

The rest of the ride to the school was uneventful. With music blaring in the car, Dean let his mind wander. He remembered bits and pieces here in Smallville. He was only 9 back then and he and Sam had been stuck on the Kent farm for most of their stay, but there were a couple instances where Jonathan Kent would let Dean go with him to town as he made quick errands. As a kid, he found it foreign and fascinating, being able to stay and pretend to be a normal kid with normal problems.

It was certainly a change from driving across the country with a monster hunter as a dad. He loved his dad and Sammy terribly, he’d do anything for his family. But living as part of the Kent family in a small town like Smallville had been different, interesting. And Dean found a part of him kind of missed this place.

When they arrived at the school, Clark got out and smiled. “Thanks for the ride. See you after school,” he said and readjusted his backpack.

“Yeah, see ya, Clark,” Sam said.

Dean merely smirked and gave him a little wave. He watched Clark turn and disappear into the crowd. He didn’t pull out immediately, deciding to watch the rest of the student body rush into the building. Dean decided to treat this like any other case. He liked to _people watch_ and get a feel for his surroundings when he was on a case. It made it easier to know who or what to watch out for. 

From Clark’s description of Whitney, the asshole jock of the school, it wasn’t hard to find him. The guy was always surrounded by a posse, and Lana Lang, who was indeed wearing a green crystal. 

He nudged Sam and pointed her out, knowing his brother had come into contact with her in town. “That her, Sam?”

Sam followed his gaze and his eyes widened in recognition. “Yeah, that’s her. Clark’s right,” he whispered. “She’s with him and the football team.”

“You think she’s involved in this?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow at the accusation in his voice. He turned to face his brother. “Did you actually see her in your vision?”

Sam’s body seemed to tense but when he spoke he sounded less sure of himself. “I...well, no but…” He slumped in his seat when he saw Dean stare at him. “No I didn’t but come on, Dean...Clark’s been having problems with this Whitney guy and he’s Lana’s boyfriend and in the vision, Clark’s tied to a scarecrow wearing Lana’s necklace.”

Sam’s frustration was apparent as he ranted to Dean. Dean sighed. “I get it. It doesn’t look good. But if she wasn’t in your vision, then we can’t treat her like a bad guy. OK, Sammy?” He waited for Sam to nod his understanding, even if it was done with one of his bitch faces. He ignored it and relaxed. “Good. Glad we’re on the same page. Let’s go take a look at that field now.”

He peeled out of the parking lot and they went to Riley Field where the scarecrow was supposedly at. 

When they got there and got out of the Impala, it didn’t take long for them to find the scarecrow. Sam’s vision was scarily detailed.

They hung out, just the two of them, in the middle of the field with a scarecrow behind Dean. Dean felt eerily out of place as he watched his little brother shiver as another gust of wind passed through. Sam was 14 years old now and still pretty small for his age. Dean kind of wondered when Sam was going to get his growth spurt. Probably any time now. Dean wondered if Sam was going to grow taller than Dean. Like Clark did. He had to laugh at himself at the thought. Because imagining Sammy over 6 feet tall? That was a joke, a pretty good joke.

Sam glanced over at his brother and gave him a weird look at the smile on his face. Dean hadn’t said anything over the past 20 minutes now so Sam wasn’t sure what was so funny. “What?” he mumbled.

“Nothing,” Dean said. He considered telling Sam about how he was just thinking Sam was going to be short forever because he couldn’t imagine Sam taller than Dean, like Clark was. He shook his head as his grin widened. Nah. He decided he was going to keep that particular thought to himself. 

Sam didn’t push the topic, deciding it wasn’t worth the effort. Instead he looked over to Dean anxiously. “OK. Whatever then. Just at least tell me what time it is?” he asked and Dean checked his watch.

“A quarter to 3. Why?” Dean asked.

“Well I think Clark gets off soon,” Sam said. 

“So give it another couple hours then?” Dean suggested. “Did Clark mention what time the dance was?”

Sam shook his head. “It’s probably like 6 or something. I can’t imagine it’d be super late.”

“It’s high school, Sammy,” Dean said, rolling his eyes.

“It’s a school dance,” Sam said.

Dean sighed. It was obvious Sam had never been to a dance in his life. God, his brother was so innocent. Too innocent. “Yeah, but it’s high school.” At the blank stare from Sam, Dean explained further, “Teenagers? Hormones? Come on, Sammy. None of this ring a bell?”

“I’m 14, Dean,” Sam huffed. “And Clark’s 14.”

“Oh my god,” Dean exclaimed. “I know! But I’m just saying high school dances are different. Like you think the adult chaperones don’t know what we get up to after the dance.”

“Fine, OK. Then the dance probably starts at 7 or something. Either way, we’re gonna be sitting here in this field by a freaky scarecrow in the cold all night,” Sam ranted, clearly not happy at their current situation and Dean arguing over a stupid school dance was not helping matters.

Dean put his hands up in surrender in a futile attempt to calm Sam down. “OK, sorry. Look I know it sucks. It’s freezing out here and the thought of being stuck here for the night doesn’t exactly bring me joy either. But hey, here we are, just you and me, Sammy. So let’s just try not to rip each other’s throats out, OK?”

Sam sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm himself at his brother’s words. Dean was right. He sighed and gave Dean a small smile. “Yeah OK. You’re right,” he mumbled. “I just hope Clark’s doing OK.”

“Me too, Sammy,” Dean said as he moved closer to his brother. Sam was still shivering and he shoved his hands into his jean pockets. Dean wrapped an arm over his shoulder and pulled him closer for warmth. He wished they could go back to the Impala to heat up, but Dean felt like that’d be a bad idea. What if Clark and Whitney showed up while Sam and Dean were on the other side of the field? They couldn’t leave their friend to fend for himself. Especially if Sammy’s vision came true and Clark was helpless.

All he could offer his brother right now was his company. No matter how crappy and annoying it was.

-

Clark didn’t see it coming, though he should’ve. Whitney was too quick and he brought the football team with him, or some of the team, to make a difference. Clark didn’t want to fight on school property anyhow. And he also didn’t realize just how important the crystal would play to his own helplessness.

Clark felt like all the preparedness in the world wouldn’t have helped him. Whitney took him by surprise and Clark’s own unwillingness to hurt those around him caused him to stay rooted in place with a _deer in the headlights_ expression on his face. 

He wished he knew the extent of Whitney’s own jealousy. And to make things even worse, Clark didn’t even understand why Whitney would be so jealous of Clark. As far as Clark knew, Lana was completely infatuated with Whitney. 

“Wait, look. You don’t have to do this,” Clark attempted to reason with the jock. He watched as Whitney paused for a second, like he was even considering Clark’s feelings. “You can let me go now, Whitney. We can all forget about this and laugh it off.” 

He watched as Whitney began to walk to his truck and signaled for the other two jocks to drag Clark to it as well.

The crystal felt like a noose around his neck.

Clark sat in the back. He couldn’t summon the strength to sit up. He felt the bite of cold dig into his skin as they rode in silence to the field.

Clark really hoped the vision wasn’t going to play out the same way Sam Winchester saw it.

-

Dean heard people approaching before he saw them. There were a bunch of voices, all rowdy, loud and cheering. He tamped down on his anger and wondered if he should just scare them off with his gun. He’d love to see the look on their stupid faces when they saw a real gun, with real bullets in Dean’s hands. He must have had that look on his face, the one Sam dubbed as the ‘self-satisfied Dean Winchester is so full of himself’ look Dean always got when he was thinking something stupid and funny.

“No, Dean. You’re not shooting any of them,” Sam hissed.

Dean melodramatically grabbed at his shirt and grinned, “Why, Sam, you wound me. I can’t believe you’d think I’d do anything like that to a bunch of moronic teens. I wouldn’t shoot them, just...scare them.”

“Still no,” Sam said, rolling his eyes. “Now shut up. Here they come.”

“Fine, I’ll just beat the crap out of them then,” Dean muttered.

As if on cue, the football team entered the clearing with a semi-conscious Clark Kent in tow. They had been laughing and talking among themselves. But when they caught sight of Sam and Dean just casually leaning against the scarecrow, they all froze.

“Well, aren’t y'all just happy to see us?” Dean grinned, crossing his arms as he stared at Whitney.


End file.
